


Draw Your Beauty

by Miss_Neer



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, tokyo ghoul :re
Genre: A bit of smut/nsfw, Fluff, Hints on non-con, M/M, Painting, crack at the end, maybe a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Neer/pseuds/Miss_Neer
Summary: Shirazu wants to see how Urie would paint a self-portrait. It takes Urie a long time to decide what to draw but in the end he finally figures out who he truly is and draws just that.





	Draw Your Beauty

Heavy breaths escaped Urie's lips as he struggled not to make too much noise, because if he did, Sasaki would hurry to his side, and after him the others too. Because Urie never makes any noises of pain, never grunts, never groans, never cries, never moans. But Shirazu wasn't giving him an easy time, the ginger male wanted him to make noises, wanted Sasaki to burst through the door, screaming "Urie, are you okay?!"

Urie looked away from the male over him, his eyes trying to catch a glimpse of something that could keep him occupied, focused, so he doesn't feel him too much. Even if his bed was already creating horribly lewd noises, he hoped he could put the blame on the neighbors over them, as they were a young couple with nothing better to do anyways, so his story should be believable. 

His eyes caught the drawing, a landscape shape, with two different drawing styles on it. Two people, arms wrapped around each other, one grinning, and the other not even possessing a mouth. The reason behind it almost made Urie blush.

"Yer mouth's so small, and ya never smile, so it always feels like it ain't even there!" Shirazu answered once Kuki asked about the missing body part.

Urie simply let out a sigh as he looked at his side of the painting. Urie and Shirazu had agreed, on Shirazu's proposal, to both draw each other in one painting. Urie knew Shirazu sucked at drawing, but he never expected himself to look like an anime skeleton that a three-year-old drew. His chin was pointy and his head was large, his neck was one dark line and his shoulders were almost non-existent. His eyes were just two triangles and his hair was a mop. All drawn in the same colour, purple. Shirazu never bothered to change the colour. 

The taller male looked over at the artistic side of the canvas and gasped. Urie had drawn Shirazu in such a beautiful fashion, that Shirazu thought Urie might actually have fantasy vision. Shirazu looked drop dead gorgeous and the smile he held was mesmerizing, the colours blending in perfectly, making him shine under an imaginary setting sun, his large arm wrapped around the stick figure on his side. Shirazu knew that Urie was a realistic artist but he never knew Urie could turn a pile of manure like Shirazu into a charming prince out of a fairy tale.

Or was that just the way Urie viewed Shirazu?

Shirazu laughed, his heart surrounded by warmth as he looked at Urie's face. They were both covered in paint, Urie far more than Shirazu. But that was because Urie tested his colours on his own arms and Shirazu "tested" his on Urie's cheeks and nose, which made Urie look like a small child who had just created a mess out of his parent's walls.

"Mine looks like shit!" Shirazu exhaled once they finished cleaning their tainted skin, throwing his arms over his head and lying down on the bed.

He saw Urie's face pop out from under a towel, staring at the painting "It looks like something a baby could draw. (But it's my treasure now.)"

"Yer too mean to me, Urikooo!" Shirazu cried out as he pulled Urie on top of him, bombarding his face with hard sloppy kisses.

And that's how they got into this situation. 

Urie watched as the paint dried, his side sparkling in the moonlight, since he had used much more paint than Shirazu. His eyes couldn't stop staring, he didn't know which side to love more - the part where Shirazu was grinning like an idiot, or the art Shirazu had done of him. The stinging feeling in his lower abdomen was mere background sensation.

And soon the pressure inside of him left, and he was left feeling empty once more, even after a warm liquid slid down his legs. Shirazu's eyes followed Urie's gaze until he was met with the same sight of the painting, illuminated by the moon, as the rest of the room was simply pitch black, making their masterpiece stand out eve more. He always hated how Urie always denied him if he kept the lights on, he'd only agree to things like this if the lights were off and the curtains closed. But he guessed he hadn't pushed the curtains together to the end, creating a thin line for the light to come through. 

"Yer staring at that piece o' crap?" Shirazu asked, his voice low so he wouldn't disturb the gentle atmosphere they had created.

Urie said nothing, he didn't feel like he had to, until the room got so quiet that the only noise heard was the heavy breathing of both men "... (You call it that, yet to me, it is so much more.)"

"Yo Kuki!" Shirazu called out, making Urie tilt his head back towards Shirazu, suddenly feeling exposed under him "I want ya to draw a portrait o' yerself! Will ya consider it?" he leaned down and littered the other's neck with soft kisses.

"...I'll think about it." Urie said, his eyes glued back to the painting. If he drew this for Shirazu, would the male smile even more than he does now?

Shirazu isn't a person to hide his emotions, he is actually open to everyone willing to explore him, but as such, he was mostly a pissy person. He always held an angry expression, like everything around him irritates him. And because Shirazu is a volcano and Urie a hurricane, they crash against each other a lot, and that results in daily fights and arguments, both them and the squad were already used to. 

But that doesn't mean they don't care about each other. Each time Shirazu kicks Urie, he flinches and instantly regrets it, even as Urie reassures him that he's fine. And each time Urie slapped Shirazu, he'd curl his fingers into his palm and pull his hand against his chest, holding it back, like an angry snake. But he never apologizes, only kisses the bruise better. 

And even with this poisonous relationship, they are happy with each other, and none of the others know that they are a thing. Sure, they are together through the whole day, you just can't see Shirazu without Urie, and if you see Urie without Shirazu, just wait a minute and you'll see the male running after the purple head.

In the morning, Urie woke up first, as always, finding himself wearing nothing but his boyfriend's shirt. Shirazu probably put it on him once he saw him curl up from the cold. He rubbed his eyes and looked down at the other, sleeping right next to him, snoring with his mouth wide open, drooling and completely exposed. Urie got out of bed and brought the blanket up to Shirazu's chin, making sure he wasn't cold. 

After cleaning himself and changing, their day continued like any other.

"Why were you in Urie's room?" Tooru asked once she/he caught Shirazu sneaking out of the older boy's room.

"I came ta scare Uribo awake, but he's already awake!" Tooru raised an eyebrow, almost not believing Shirazu, to which Shirazu added "That jerk!"

That night, Urie stood before the blank canvas, a colourless brush in his hand, his dark eyes staring at the white abyss in front of him. He stayed silent, even the crickets from all those floors under him could be heard. 

"Draw a portrait o' yerself!" his words rang in Urie's head. He had to draw himself in a way he sees himself, a way Shirazu would be happy to see him in.

Urie could just draw what he saw in the mirror but that would bring no emotions to the spectator, to Shirazu, it would just be a dull image with dark colours. Even if he drew himself with flashy unrealistic colours, it wouldn't be okay, because then it wouldn't be Urie, it would be someone else completely, and it wouldn't make Shirazu happy. He could draw himself with a smile but would that really be what Shirazu wants? That isn't himself, that was a fantasy. 

The brush was placed back into its original box, the canvas left untouched for the day. Urie couldn't draw what Shirazu expected. He had no inspiration. 

"So did ya draw it yet?" Shirazu asked, blowing thick smoke out of his mouth in the opposite direction of where Urie was "The portrait, I mean..."

"No." Urie answered quietly, staring down at the tiny city under his feet, which were dangling from the edge of the rooftop he was on. He felt like if he leaned any further, he would fall down. Then he'd give Shirazu the image he asked for, a self portrait, because lately Urie feels like all he does is fall down.

"Why the fuck not?!" Shirazu frowned, holding the cigarette between his middle and index finger, staring at Urie "If ya can draw me in one day, ya can draw yerself in five minutes! It doesn't have ta be a masterpiece, just make it!"

Urie watched the tiny people walking under him, his hair fluttering in the wind and he could tell Shirazu was spitting his own long hair out of his mouth, struggling to keep it outside. He thought about slipping again, feeling nothing under him, just the fast breeze flow against his whole body. But then his eyes were met with a hand and he was pulled backwards into a wide chest, without a word. Had Shirazu sneaked up behind him?

"Yer leaning too far, idiot. What's bothering ya?" Shirazu asked, his hand staying in place as he continued to smoke over Urie's head, reading him like a book, something no one else can do.

"I just got distracted." Urie lied, but that day he realized that he hasn't been falling forever. He had only slipped but never fell, because each time someone pushed Urie over, Shirazu caught him, much like he did right now. Urie couldn't jump down a building, because Shirazu would just be there to catch Urie before he hit the ground.

Like a prince on a white horse.

"Guys, what does a crush feel like?" Saiko asked one day, staring up at all four of the squad members, waiting for their answers eagerly. 

"Um, I guess it's when your heart flutters when you're next to them?" Tooru suggested, blushing her/himself.

"And when you just want to hold them and kiss them all day! And read books together!" Haise added, his eyes dreamy as he imagined the woman from the coffee shop they visited. 

Saiko pouted and looked at Urie, who just shook his head, as an "I don't know."

"It's when ya feel such an attraction to a person, to the point ya know how they're feeling just by lookin' at them, and ya hurt when they hurt, yer happy when they're happy, and ya feel calm only when they're next to ya." Shirazu called out, surprising all of the squad members "Ya get worried when they're away, and ya want nothing more than to make them feel good. Ya want to snuggle them, kiss them, watch their cute lil face and protect them." Shirazu glanced over at Urie, which none of the squad members seemed to notice "It's like an obsession, an addiction. And they're the drug ya get high on each time yer with them." he smiled at Saiko "They're like yer dearest person!"

At that moment, Urie understood what he meant to Shirazu. It wasn't a crush, nor was it a way to get his needs out of the way, his love towards Urie was as important as breathing, eating, sleeping.

"So how's ranking up coming along?" Takeomi chuckled as he looked at Urie. The two of them along with Shirazu were stuck in the elevator, forced to go down so many levels together, so much that they might just start playing chess.

"The fuck does that mean?!" Shirazu leaned over to look at Takeomi, while Urie just crossed his arms and ignored the two.

"What are you getting fired up for? I'm talking to Rank 3 Urie Kuki." he teased, making sure his words were heard loud and clear by Urie.

"Ya son of a..." Shirazu was already taking his jacket off, ready to fight this man right there and then, but Urie grabbed his shirt in such a way that he didn't even have to move his arms and Takeomi hadn't even noticed the gentle grip Shirazu recieved.

"Ignore him. He's just asking for trouble." Urie whispered so quietly that only the ghoul standing right next to him could hear, as he opened his eyes and stared up at Shirazu "Giving him what he wants will just lead to his victory, no?"

That's when Urie realized that Shirazu is there for him, no matter who was on the other side of the story.

Urie's hand gripped onto the throat of another ghoul, pinning him to the wall and glaring up at him, his eyes so sharp that it felt like two knives bursting through his soul, and his lips slightly parted to let out a faint "Tch."

The B rated ghoul looked down at him with horror, unable to use his damaged kagune anymore and thus resulting in him being as intimidating as a human cannibal. He knew that he was about to get hurt horribly before dying in the end, because he realized himself that the investigator he hurt was someone dear to this demon in front of him.

Shirazu's eyes stared up at Rank 1 Urie Kuki, with complete admiration, and love, knowing that the the other got angry over the fact that the ghoul had simply wounded Shirazu, whose cut has already healed. 

And before he knew it, the ghoul was slain.

And that's when Urie realized, he wanted to protect this person. 

His dearest person. 

"Ya drew it?!" Shirazu all out squeaked once he heard the news "Ya serious?!"

He had waited for almost a month for his present but he was glad to finally get it. He deserved this, after all.

Urie nodded and removed the cover from the canvas. Shirazu's expression lit up but soon froze and turned into a frown "Kuki... That ain't you. That's me."

And Shirazu was right. The painting was one of Shirazu, smiling yet again, only this time it was much kinder; his two hands forming a heart shape over his chest where his real, pulsing heart was. It had no signs of Urie Kuki, which doesn't fit into the definition of self portrait. It was just a portrait of a friend, in this case, Shirazu Ginshi.

"I am here, can't you see it? (Notice it, dammit, I drew this for you, I drew what I saw, I drew what I am.)" Urie said, looking back and forth between the painting and Shirazu.

"I don't see it!" Shirazu admitted his defeat, whining as he hung his head low and sighed, he was really looking forward to this drawing...

Urie sighed and pointed to the center of the heart, looking over at Shirazu "I'm right here, are you that blind?"

This caused Shirazu's eyes to widen. Urie was there. He's been there this whole time. He's never been anywhere else, only there. Of course, how could Shirazu be so blind? Urie Kuki, a man Shirazu always saw as a cool heartless person, but knew as the person who suffered the most pain, was in his heart this whole time. He wasn't alone, he wasn't independent, he wasn't isolated, he wasn't locked away from everyone. His rightful place was in Shirazu's heart and that's what Urie saw when he thought about Urie Kuki. Instead of drawing a man suffering, falling, drowning, or a man so dull and lonely that you couldn't even look at without yawning, Urie drew himself as a part of Shirazu's heart, his love, his happiness. 

( self-portrait /sɛlfˈpɔːtreɪt/ | noun:

a portrait that an artist produces of themselves. )

Because that is what Urie truly realized. He was Shirazu's love and happiness. And all of those come from the heart.

Shirazu immediately embraced the boy close to his chest, holding a hand behind his head as he took in the wonderful scent of Kuki "Thank ya, Kuki..."

Kuki refused to return the hug, but Shirazu never expected him to, he was fine like this, just holding him, because he knew that as long he wasn't pushing him away, Kuki was returning the hug in his own way. His dark eyes glared at the painting for a while and before he could even snap back to reality, he was already bedding Shirazu.

Urie couldn't sleep that night, his own painting haunting his dreams. Could he have done it differently? Better? He didn't know how else to draw it. He stayed awake for nights in a row, drawing this, perfecting it, making sure every little detail was in place. He wanted Shirazu to look good in his painting, but he truly payed no mind to himself, because he wasn't there, he never itended to be there. Shirazu is all he is, without Shirazu, he'd be a simple robot, with no emotions, no needs, no thoughts, no opinions, only one mission - S3.

Shirazu gave him life, he gave him love, something he hasn't felt for almost twelve years. The first time they lay together, Urie didn't give him permission, and he hadn't denied him either. So Shirazu was left to figure out on his own what to do with Urie. The male hadn't kissed back and he surely didn't move a muscle when Shirazu stripped him. Even if their first time was painful, leaving Urie with tears in his eyes and blood on his sheets, he didn't regret it. Neither of them did. Even if it was awkward and didn't feel good at all, it made them both happy in their own ways, the fact that they became one.

And after that, Urie never denied him anything.

He suddenly felt something heavy yet warm being placed on his shoulders. Once he looked, he saw that it was Shirazu's jacket. He pulled it closer to his body and nuzzled the orange fur on the hood of it. He didn't refuse the two arms that wrapped around his waist, nor the cold nose nuzzling the back of his neck. He stayed still.

"Hey Uriko?" Shirazu called out after a long period of gazing at the stars, earning a quiet "Hm?" from Urie. "I just wanna let ya know, yer the most beautiful artwork I've ever seen."

Urie turned his head to catch a glimpse of Shirazu, who moved his head to Urie's side, smiling at him before their lips connected, wide chapped ones meeting small soft ones. After they pulled away, they gazed into each other's eyes before Shirazu cut the silence with yet another stupid remark.

"Yer beautiful, Kuki. Yer moles are cute, the way ya look at me is adorable, and yer expressions when I touch ya are so beautiful that I feel like I could just finish right then and there." 

Urie looked away to hide his embarrassment, but his faintly blushing ears told Shirazu everything he needed to know.

"I love ya, Kuki. Ya know that, right?"

"I love you, too... Asshole... (Ginshi...)"

And that night, Urie couldn't stare at anything other than Shirazu, couldn't keep his mind occupied with anything else, couldn't ignore the warm sensation building up inside of him, couldn't stop the tears from escaping the corners of his eyes, couldn't hold back the blush completely washing over his cheeks, couldn't stop himself from gripping the sheets with his fingers and pull them with every squeak his bed made, couldn't bite his lip, couldn't hold in the noises, couldn't do anything other than Shrazu.

And all of the pain was worth it, because it felt good, and it was all for the sake of love.

Even the panicked Haise kicking the door down with his kagune just to save Urie from an imaginary monster couldn't ruin their perfect night.

Of course, it ruined Haise's. A lot. Because he was scarred for life. Straight men just couldn't understand.


End file.
